The Hogwarts Guide to Minimizing Anxiety During Revision and Exams
by Cordelia McGonagall
Summary: Draco settles himself for his end-of-term work. Thank you to JKR for all that I don't own.


A/N: Optional prompts included the words _revenge_ , _olive_ , and _raindrops_. Gratitude and affection for chinaglaze who wisely Britpicked and thoughtfully beta read for me. As Chaser 2 for Puddlemere, I was asked to write about Calming Draughts. I hope you enjoy.

 **.oOo.**

The Hogwarts Guide to Minimizing Anxiety During Revision and Exams

 **"Anxiety during revision may cause irritability or a short temper. Whist practising new and complex spells for exams, one may find even the most mundane of wandwork quickly forgotten. Proper planning and careful revision habits are the best preventative measure."**

 **\- from** _ **The Hogwarts Guide to Minimising Anxiety During Revision and Exams**_ **by Professor Charity Burbage**

"What is your problem?" Pansy's splenetic snarl had a tint of worry coloring the edges of her sharp words. Draco had been lost in thought; he caught only her last word, and the absurdity of it made him rudely snort a laugh. _Problem. If only_.

Problems were, well, obstacles for other people. Longbottom could barely light his cauldron today; now that fool, all fumble and cringe, had problems. Malfoys didn't have problems. Malfoys were presented with opportunities. And this opportunity, this special honour, almost made him covet the problems of that useless Gryffindor tosser. _They were all tossers, Gryffindors._

Draco barely registered Pansy shoving away from the table. He didn't even flinch when her book bag caught his shoulder in her wake. He returned to his olive leather-bound book, _Portkeys and Portals_. Pansy had been boring, winding herself around him, purring questions about the book, his absences from the common room, his lack of interest in private walks by the lake. He knew it was cruel to offer her Nott's services in his stead, but it had the desired effect - he was alone. He could think.

 **"Anxiety may result in physical symptoms; headache, stomach upset, or a shortness of breath."**

Logic was eluding him. He'd read the same paragraph four times before he'd realized it, and the small voice of clarity remaining in his mind whispered, _You are panicking._ This honour he'd been given was heavy and everywhere. It squeezed his temples, throbbed in his chest, compressed his lungs.

He had to think. His mind bolted back to last year, when that cow-eyed Hannah Abbott cried herself into a bed in the Hospital Wing. Draco wondered if the Calming Draught had helped that bint scrape an Acceptable in Herbology. Maybe he should go and ask for one himself. _"Excuse me, Madam Pomfrey, may I please have a Calming Draught? You see, I'm trying to kill the Headmaster, and it's proving rather stressful."_ Forgetting where he was for a moment, he barked another laugh. Madam Pince hissed at him. He lifted his head to scowl at her, and the cool face of Hermione Granger stared back, one eyebrow poised in a withering look.

Pure rage boiled in him. _How dare that little Mudblood sit in this castle, where his ancestors, generations of Malfoys, studied the heavens, moved in space and through time, while her filthy family were dragging ploughs and living in huts. Probably. Mudblood._

He'd have his revenge when the Death Eaters get into the castle - when he let them in. He, Draco Malfoy, was the only one in his house who had worked out what had happened when Montague was stuck in that vanishing cabinet.

 _Cabinets._

 _That bag of dirt, that dirty hag, will be gone from the school - his school - and Potter and Weasley with her. Oh, Weasley, now there was a bloke with problems - running after Potter and besotted with a Mudblood._ It was almost enough to make Draco feel sorry for Ron. _Almost._

 _Is she staring at me?_

Draco snapped his aching grey eyes back to Hermione's calculating brown ones.

 _Was she looking...concerned?_

 _Concerned for her precious Harry, more like_. Draco sneered. _She should be; Potter's days were numbered._ Draco pictured the calendar in his student planner in his mind. The thin, snakelike face of his Lord slid across the squares, filled with now pointless busywork, Quidditch and Astronomy, distractions from what he had been set to do.

The raindrops tapping at the windows were counting an erratic tempo, competing with his heart which was starting to race. Ten...nineeightseven...six...five...four-three...two-one. The room started to close in.

 _No!_

Draco breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, with each breath pushing the walls back to their places. After Potter witlessly slashed him open, Pomfrey had tried to give him a Calming Draught, but he only took the Dittany; Snape was at his side. It would have been like him to add Veritaserum, and then Draco would have emptied out more than his veins.

His mind wandered over that day in the bathroom. He edited out the tears, erased the string of mucus dripping from his nose into the sink, and banished Myrtle, awkward in death, who'd mewled at him. He'd been troubled that Snape hadn't pushed for a harsher punishment for Potter. He'd finally settled on the thought that if the school had known, so would the Death Eaters, and then Draco would be dead. Dumbledore would never expel his most precious student. It occurred to him then that Harry Potter could kill him with just one tiny owl. _"Dear Lord Voldemort, Draco's crying in the loo. Reckon it's about you. I'm going to Dumbledore. Love, Potter."_

Draco's shoulders shook with laughter, and he pushed his eyes with the heels of his hands until he saw white stars. _Stars. That Astronomy chart was due last week._ He wondered what would happen if he got himself chucked out of Hogwarts.

He opened his eyes and blinked to adjust them to the afternoon sun, and he swallowed a gasp when he locked eyes again with Hermione Granger. She slid her chair in carefully as she made her way towards him like a cat on the hunt.

 _Damn Mudblood. What does she want?_

"Interesting reading, Malfoy. _Portkeys and Portals._ Are you planning to run away?"

Draco put his hand on his wand resting on the table. He gripped it sideways until his knuckles turned white. _Breathe._ He looked up and smiled at her and delighted in her reaction, her eyes wide, her reflexive step away. Yes. _He could Crucio her right now. It would be a pleasure to watch her suffer._ His mind stitched together a fantasy; imagining it was a Calming Potion, a balm for his nerves. _I must look mad._ He smiled wider.

"No, you dirty squatter," he said gently, "I don't want to miss a moment of my revenge and your pain."

Finally, he could breathe. He took a grateful gulp of air, and swept his books into his arms and himself from the library. He would finish the chapter tonight. He was so close. He was calm.

 **"Visualising your goal as manageable and within your reach is a good strategy during revision. Think of a treat you can use as a reward for your efforts. Remember how much you have already achieved! All of us at Hogwarts are proud of you! Best of luck, Professor Charity Burbage."**


End file.
